A Walk in a Nightmare
by Into.The.Depths
Summary: Callixtus Palmer was first educated at home by his father until the reign of Voldemort; taking up most of his father's time and eventually putting him in Hogwarts, away from his abuse. Make alliances, his father said; but what about friends? Luna, Snape..
1. Chapter 1

**Alright****, I don't care if you flame me in your review but I would like someone to tell me if I have made any mistakes or inconstancies. I really need a beta but have no idea how it works. I just kinda got this idea and went with the flow.**

**Warnings of abuse from not only the main character but some other roommates as well. Later chapters may have references to gore or torture. **

The only comfort you can rely is that of yourself.

The dungeons were unappealing and ominous; with a powerful feeling it seemed almost like a mother's hug. As I walked through the rough stone walls the faint feeling of claustrophobia filled me, because the sweetening feeling was foreign. I pushed it down and kept walking, feeling the other first years trailing behind me. They didn't feel it, but I could, like a huge wind gushing with irritating speed.

We stopped in front of a stretch of wall and I stood; confused, staring at it was curiosity. Surely magic wasn't this far advanced at Hogwarts!

"Victory," a prefect from several people behind me said and I shivered, knowing the meaning of that word in this war (especially with Slytherins). People, smaller children, burst around me and filled the common room that had just opened up. I was impressed by the amount of magic in the school and walked in as well, with less enthusiasm, to meet my fate.

From my view during dinner and my father's warnings, I was armed with the fact that our Head of House was not a pleasant man, to either friend or foe and although you didn't want to get into the receiving end of his wand, it didn't really matter. His words were enough.

I stayed in the background of the low leveled room, choosing a chair that faced the door and the dorm rooms. My back was against the cold hard wall and I shivered. Suddenly a pointed face came into view and I looked up, my face schooled to show mild interest. It was someone from the Malfoy clan.

"Draco Malfoy," he said, and stuck out his hand. I stood up and shook it. He smiled.

"Callixtus Palmer," I replied and he smirked. There was dead silence and all time seemed to stop as we checked each other, what we wore, how we wore it, and our posture, to see if we could get any information. Then, it ended and I knew that I had met his approval, sitting next to me, except his back was against the corner, more secure.

"Why did you come so late? You're a sixth year, correct?" A black wizard asked and I nodded, not sure if I could trust this crowd and decided that, what the hell? Keep it simple but enough truth to satisfy. Only answer directly when asked in the same way.

"I was home-schooled since I was ten. My father has an immense library and thought it was best if I learned from old tradition instead of the modern manuscript the United Magician's hands out every year." I said grimly and a girl, not remotely pretty winced and looked at her hands.

"My sister is having the same training and when I visit her – she's never been the same. I can see bruises on her back when ever she undresses," the girl, a Parkinson from the stature and voice, mentioned and then looked at me strangely. She was implying something but I distracted her, knowing that whatever she was trying to get across was way too personal for me.

"So, not all of you have said what family your from," I commented lightly and they all smiled. "I think I can guess some of you but not others. Lets see…" I looked at the two sluggish ones in the back of our ever growing group. "One of you is Crabbe and the other is Goyle." They nodded but didn't bother to differentiate themselves. I assumed they probably got it a lot. "And you're from the Nott family but can't recall…"

"Theodore," he snapped and my eyes widened in mock fear. Malfoy bristled.

"He's always like that, like he's got PMS," Malfoy was hit by Parkinson and then reprimanded by another, prettier female. He smirked at me but said nothing in the sort of apology to either of them.

"And," I looked around but was interrupted by a prefect.

"Bed, now, all of you. Snape is giving a speech to all of us tomorrow and if I just let it slip that the liquor cabinet was opened…" The man in charge walked away and I faked a yawn.

"I think that I'm going to go to sleep, the feast has made me exhausted. It was great talking you all, maybe I can hear your names tomorrow." Several people nodded and left as well, some of them already asleep in their chairs. The white-blonde looked at me with an eyebrow cocked.

"What was that all about?" he questioned and I leaned back against the chair again and sighed.

"What do you mean?"

"It's only ten! How can you be tired? It's your first night in a new school people and places to visit! I have an invisibility cloak, we could nip around to Hagrid and scare the living…"

"Exactly," I cut in, agitated by the confrontation. "It's a new school that is way more overwhelming then my manor. I need to study tomorrow and we have Snape coming which I have the feeling with interrogate the living daylights out of me. Just give a man a break, ok?"

He snarled but agreed and walked away towards the corridor of rooms. I was alone, finally and slouched in my chair, my bruises and cuts finally getting relief from me constantly keeping my back straight. I sighed and didn't let any tears fall, knowing that that salty water showed weakness, and I was sixteen for heavens sake: old enough to keep emotions or physical pain inside. I was a wizard, and decided that, before Monday (that day was Thursday), I would find some healing spells or recipes for potions.

My father had decided not to learn me either of those, knowing that keeping any injures he sat upon me would give me character. I recall him saying that if someone was injured they should deal with it and not be some Gryffindor or Hufflepuff to help them. Alliances should be of survival and if these people don't know simple spells like that, then they should be cast aside. He didn't think that these rules should be used against me though. He said that knowing the Dark Arts was enough.

I got up after a half an hour of speculation and walked to my room that was set aside from everyone else's because of my status and the strings my father pulled to have no one see my scars made by him. I barely looked around to survey the room before falling asleep as my head hit the pillow. I would deal tomorrow, tomorrow.

My internal clock woke me at six o'clock and I struggled out of bed and into the communal showers. I shrugged off my robes that I forgot to change out of the night before and went under the hot spray. Another cut had opened up while I had slept and I cried out in pain as the water ran into said injury and caused agony like you couldn't imagine.

Changed into a silver robe, with a white button up shirt and grey pants, I looked in the mirror and almost turned away in disgust. I had ordinary mousy hair with really light blue eyes with purplish bags and pale skin, a mix between Malfoy and Snape's coloring. My nose was normal, tiny and neat but with a slight bump in from it being broken when I was nine.

I hurried out of the washroom before anyone would come in and walked to breakfast. It was still early and when I walked into the humungous only a couple people were there, including Dumbledore, Snape, a Ravenclaw and several Hufflepuffs. I had put on my mask again before I came in and walked straight, with confidence taking a seat at the Slytherin table. A newspaper was lying on the table and I picked it up, hiding behind the print.

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	2. Snape! Enter!

**Second chapter is up. Read it or weep, or read it and weep. This story is mainly about Callixtus Palmer and Snape along with battle to survive and all that jazz. **

"I don't trust lonely people. Life's eternal spectators, watching, waiting." –Interrogator from Closet Land (Aan Rickman)

"You're new aren't you?" a girl asked me and I put down the paper, realizing more people came in. It was much later and realized, suddenly, that I had been reading the articles for nearly a half an hour.

"Yes," I said and surveyed the girl before me. She was a pureblood, which I knew, with inquisitive eyes and an odd look to her. I raised an eyebrow to her but she didn't take the hint and sat down across the table from me, flouncing as she did so.

"You look sad," there is was again! She was asking like a five year old when she looked about thirteen.

"I am not! Why would you think such a thing?" Nothing seemed wrong with me at my stand point; no depressing thoughts invading my mind within those minutes, or even the entire time I had been in the Great Hall. The girl's lips curled into a kind of smirk that belonged to those annoyed and she leaned forward.

"I can tell. You're unhappy and scared, hiding in the shell your father constructed for you. Break free little bird," and she skipped off, her long dirty blonde hair swinging as she went. I only shook my head against the absurd conversation. Little bird? Right and she's the Muggle Father Christmas.

I speculated a little longer before Malfoy came to sit down next me. He grabbed a muffin and put a generous amount of butter on it before utterly devouring it, whole.

"I'm always hungry in the morning, are you?" He asked and grabbed another one, but this time nibbled on it instead of cramming it into his face. I nodded but didn't try to explain the lack of crumbs on my plate. "That girl is Luna Lovegood, her father is the editor for the Quibbler. I've always found her weird, muttering about Nargles and things."

"You _lied_," he sneered and ripped the newspaper from my hand. At this rate I would never be able to read the Quidditch finals.

I looked him in the eye and raised an eyebrow, my patience running short. This was going nowhere and with Malfoy making sentences that only half made sense it took twice as long to listen to what he had to say. So what is I lied to him, I didn't even know what about!

"I am 'round to get my bag and found you dazing of into space. What are you, love struck?" He mocked me and I growled, standing up and carried with me the paper now ripped, torn and covered in ketchup from me putting it down when Luna came by.

"Well if you have come to tease me at the breakfast table I would say that you have just driven your guest out and insulted your mother's teaching skills. Any pureblood would know real manners but I guess you were never taught such things. Good morning," I bowed and swept out of the room, fully irritated.

I stayed behind a book for the rest of the afternoon; caressing leather covered books and reading up as much as I could from packed parchment stuffed within shelves and bindings. Recipes for potions, histories of glamours and protective spells. I nursed my pride as I did so from the morning and stayed within my comfort spot of books and things that never hit you because of your incompetence or lack of intellect.

"Palmer!" I flinched and covered my texts with my arms, looking around frantically. "Snape's coming to the Dungeons in ten minutes. He wants to see _everyone_." The speaker, Zanbini walked from around the bookshelves and raised a questioning eyebrow.

"You startled me," I proclaimed and righted myself again, shutting the books before he had a good change at looking at them. He nodded and walked away, me following behind about fifty meters, not wanting to get lost. We arrived at the entrance and stepped into the room and I took a deep breath, steeling myself for something yet to come. I could literally feel the foreboding coming off of the second and third years.

I sat down on one of the common room chairs, once again in the corner, watching while some fifth years drank deep in their goblets that smelled faintly of wine. A first year played Exploding Snaps by the fire with a sixth year and kept flinching every time the girl came too close. The hubbub was almost unbearable before another kid stood up and wildly looked around.

"Snape's coming!" the second year yelled and several people rushed into chairs from their illegal transaction. It was havoc and as the door cracked open, everyone was sitting like the patient pureblood they were.

Snape was exactly how I imagined. His stance was full of confidence and held nothing of the responsibilities he took on. His cloak swished behind him in imitation to many of the higher blooded families and his face was like a statue, perfect and smooth. He was very unappealing, with long lanky strands of hair that was so greasy it looked like broom polish and a large nose he could write in the sand with.

"This year is going to be a little different for Hogwarts, especially Slytherin because of the Dark Lord's return. Several of you already know this fact, but those who do not believe me, but that of the Daily Prophet, you too, will come to realize the mistakes you have been harboring. Sneaking around after curfew has changed to a detention every time you are caught and a meeting with the Headmaster after the fifth time." He stopped and glared at everyone in turn, his dark eyes piercing each of our carefully placed barriers of stoicism.

Beside me Draco Malfoy shifted and snickered, his aristocratic face filled with nothing but contempt.

"The Ministry is weak, only printing what is necessary and nothing to do with the Dark Lord. What a load of Bull."

I nodded and turned my attention back on our Head of House, and he started speaking again, his voice no more then a careful whisper.

"This is a time of war. I am aware that many of the people here on opposite side of the war and those in between. You are _all_ merely tools in this fight, pieces to be moved by parents, guardians or political leaders. It is your choice if you would like to be part of it. My door is always open to questions from anyone or help of any kind. Good Day and be sure not to get- to drunk before classes, I don't want any complaints of hangovers in the middle of class. First years come with me, and yes, Mr. Palmer, you too."

I snarled at his back and stood up, feeling entirely ridiculous


End file.
